


The Cult Camouflage

by Tess_Lucetram



Category: Hannibal (TV), The Path (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 07:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tess_Lucetram/pseuds/Tess_Lucetram
Summary: Will needs new clothes too





	The Cult Camouflage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecountessolivia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecountessolivia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Danish Disguise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024439) by [thecountessolivia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecountessolivia/pseuds/thecountessolivia). 



Will finds the tshirt in a goodwill box. It's light blue with a stylized eye emblazoned on the chest. It's vaguely familiar, but he can't be bothered to remember where he's seen it before. And in any case, he needs some new clothes. Falling off of cliffs with serial killers (even if they're the love of your life, and not to mention the events leading up to it) is rough on the wardrobe. And every other kind of possession too, but the clothes matter most right now. They'd found Hannibal a suitable disguise, courtesy of an unfortunate Danish traveler, but now Will needed something too. He's already cut his hair, and is still feeling a little self conscious about his ears sticking out like they do. He wants something low key, and the tshirt is the least offensive thing in the box. Hannibal would probably actually eat him, if he mentioned that, given the state of the older man's current wardrobe and Will can't help but snicker just a little. Serves him right, Will figures. It's the least kind of penance he can do. Will has to bring himself back to the moment. He's a wanted fugitive, so lingering in any one place is a bad idea. He takes his shirt to the register, along with a semi-clean hoodie and jeans. The girl running the till gives him a funny look, but Will assumes it's to do with the large bandage taped to his face, and smiles at her blandly. She musters up a half-hearted grimace before handing him his change and the plastic bag of clothing. He's almost out the door when she calls out to him.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

Will freezes instantly. Oh God, not like this, he thinks.

"Yeah," she continues, "you've been on TV recently. Some kind of new age-y cult thing, right?" She titters in amusement at her own joke.

Will's shoulders relax fractionally. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else," he says quietly, quickly leaving the shop. He hears the girl snort indelicately as the door swings shut.

He doesn't mention the encounter to Hannibal upon his return to the motel room. He just quickly gets dressed and they head out. They've decided to go to Europe, but via Canada, so they are headed north. Will doesn't think about the shop girl at all until they make a stop just outside Albany.

People are staring at him. A lot of people. It's way more than casual interest. These people seem to really recognize him, and it's very unnerving.

"Hannibal," he hisses under his breath. "I think we need to go. Now."

Hannibal looks around, finally noticing the stares. And not at him. People are specifically looking at Will. Some in disgust, some in curiosity, but there doesn't seem to be any real fear, which, given who they are is very strange indeed.

"I concur," Hannibal finally agrees. "Let's depart."

They drive their stolen car a little while longer, into New York City. The intention is to abandon the vehicle and steal a new one in the bustling metropolis, hoping no one will ever be the wiser.

It's nearing ten o'clock when Will sees the sign on the building. It's the same symbol on his shirt, and it looks to be a homeless shelter. He drives a few more blocks where they abandon the car and walk back to the big building. There are several young people milling around outside, probably volunteers. They're wearing the same shirt as Will.

As he and Hannibal approach, one of the young people shouts, startling them.

"Oh my goodness, Cal, what happened to you? Why didn't you tell us you were stopping by? If we'd known we would have made up a room for you! And who's your friend? Is he a new potential? It's just so great that you can still find the time to bring more people to the light, even with all your other responsibilities."

Will blinked. Cal? Who the heck is this Cal person? But he decided it was best to go along.

"Yes," Will replied. "This is my friend Mads," he told them, using the name that was on the passport they'd found. "We're getting in late from an unexpected trip. A room would be great."

The teens beamed at him and ushered them inside and up a flight of stairs. They were shown into a rather spartan room with a big bed on the floor, a lamp, a desk, and not much else. He thanked them politely and declined invitations to eat, wanting to avoid conversation. When they were alone, Hannibal began to explore the space as Will flopped down on the mattress. It wasn't too bad, for not having a frame. Hannibal joined him a moment later with a book in his hands.

"I believe I've found an answer as to who these people think you are," he said, handing Will the book and some pamphlets. "It seems you very much resemble a man named Cal Roberts. He is the leader of the Meyerist Movement; which seems to be a fringe religion, bordering on a cult. And you are wearing their symbol on your chest."

Will groaned. "Great," he bit out. "That's all we need. First thing tomorrow, I'm ditching this shirt."

"Wise," Hannibal agrees. "But only on the condition I get to do the same."

Will nods stiffly. Maybe this is penance for them both.


End file.
